


George in the Heatwave

by 5ingum



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Airplanes, Airports, Alcohol, Balcony Scene, Boats and Ships, Carnival, Cell Phones, Childhood Memories, Confessions, Crying, Developing Relationship, Dreams, Dreams vs. Reality, Drinking, Drinking & Talking, Drunken Confessions, Drunkenness, Early Mornings, Fear, Feelings Realization, Ferris Wheels, Fire, Flirting, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, George's POV, Guilt, Hope, Hot Weather, Inspired by Fanfiction, Inspired by Music, Internal Conflict, Kissing, Late Night Conversations, Late at Night, London, Loneliness, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Memories, Mistakes, Money, Nervousness, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Phone Calls & Telephones, Pictures, Pining, Presents, Promises, Questions, Rain, Romantic Fluff, Sad and Happy, Secret Crush, Secret Relationship, Secrets, Self-Discovery, Separations, Sharing, Slow Burn, Sugar Daddy, Texts From Last Night, Thunder and Lightning, Travel, Truth, Twitter, Water, Wishes, Worry, lol most of these tags are from the original, london boy is melting, no beta we die like men, you know when you read a fanfic and you want to write one like it too?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:14:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27810571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/5ingum/pseuds/5ingum
Summary: George has always held a strong admiration for Dream, but when their complex friendship follows him while he sleeps, he wakes up to a new world where he's changed but everything else has remained the same. In the middle of a London summer, he listens to this song that speaks back to him in echoes of his own voice. London nights, unsent messages, loving fixation, and terrible, terrible weather.Dream grumbles, "I don't do that.""Yes, you do." George starts. He feels a small fire in his chest and his words are spoken just as fast as sparks from the flame, a little too sweet. "Stop being so cute."The call falls silent.George bites his tongue. They must have heard it. There was an alteration in his voice, not the usual disregard of flirtatious advancements, not a silly topic to humor himself with. It came from his heart- a fire that won't be put out, but wavers with secrecy and shame- for Dream, and only Dream. They heard it, didn't they?--Inspired by tbhyourelame and their work titled "Heat Waves"Also inspired by the song "heat waves" by glass animals
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 64
Kudos: 522





	1. Carnival Lights

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tbhyourelame](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tbhyourelame/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Restricted Work] by [tbhyourelame](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tbhyourelame/pseuds/tbhyourelame). Log in to view. 



> I do not take credit for the plot/ concepts!!!  
> I do not ship dreamnotfound / gream  
> (( context: I was commissioned by a friend to write the story from George's POV and then decided to post in on ao3 ))  
> If tbhyourelame wants me to take this down I will  
> Also, I do re-use some direct lines from the original story, but I don't take credit for any of them. In fact, if you haven't read the original text and tbhyourelame grants you permission to do so I would highly recommend it! This is the first time I've ever written a fanfic which is centered around someone else's fanfic so if I'm doing something wrong please do let me know so I can fix it! It would be greatly appreciated.

A soft glow from the computer screen falls over the dark desk, colors switching rapidly. The monitor whirs to prevent overheating. Reclined in his seat, George's head resting on his hand. Sweat collects on his forehead. He makes a half-hearted tug at his headphones around his neck and the small exterior light shines green.

"George?" He hears Dream say faintly.

"Wait, did George leave?" Sapnap asks.

"Well, he's still on the call." Dream's voice is louder. George turns his head from his window and looks at his headset. "George?"

The change in tone makes George sit up and quickly put on his headset. He wipes his face with his sleeve and by habit runs his hand through his hair. "Sorry, sorry. I zoned out. What's happening?" George finds Sapnap dancing in front of him on the screen and he steps aside. "Uh, did you end the stream?" Dream laughs.

"Not yet, but I'm doing it right now. I know you like to say bye, so I wanted to make sure you were there." Dream answers and the small act makes George smile a little, but make his heart warm a little bit too.

"Bye! Thanks everyone! Let's all hope that this heat goes away soon. I can't bear it."

"Bye!" Sapnap yells.

"Thank you guys for all the subs and donations! I'll see you guys later! Bye! Love you!" Dream ends the stream. Dream's screen is replaced with: _this stream has ended._ The message is like a momento mori for George and his mind wavers a little bit before clicking off.

"Sorry that all I did was complain about how hot it is. I think I need to go lay down." He clicks back into the server and realizes that Sapnap had decorated where he was standing with signs laughing at the fact he doesn't have AC. One of them says: **it's too hot for London boy Gogy wee waa he can't handle the heat.** He rolls his eyes and collects them.

"It's fine, I know how it feels. We get heatwaves in Florida sometimes. I feel bad for you." Dream parkours up some steps and back down while he talks. "Do you have any idea when it will cool down?"

"No, I hope it's really soon though." George huffs, "I don't know how much more I can take." He follows Dream in-game a bit. They'd been playing for three hours, and George had gotten so sweaty that he thinks he might be stuck to his chair. Unfortunately, there wasn't a lot to distract him and he was itching constantly to leave his seat, but gaming was enough to keep his attention for a while. "It was nice to talk to you. I guess your voice helps me to not think about how painful it is to sit here." George cringes as the words leave his mouth. What was _that?_

Dream just laughs it off.

"Dream's voice is just that powerful." Sapnap replies.

"I doubt that. I don't think George actually likes my streams."

"What? What are you on about? Your streams are great!" Was it because he zoned out?

"If you actually liked them you wouldn't zone out like that…" Dream says with a hint of bitterness.

"I didn't want to! I just got overtaken by the heat. I went to- go get some water." George tries to reason.

"You couldn't have been just getting water for ten minutes, George." Sapnap says.

"What?" George was bewildered. He didn't think he had been out for that long; he had been exploring the map and clicked on Dream's stream to see what he was up to and sure he was mesmerized by his voice and the hot air that he got lost in thought and then…

"You were AFK for a long time. We tried talking to you and thought you muted or something." Dream says.

"Oh," George falls short of words.

"Wait a second, did you mute yourself on purpose?" Sapnap laughs before at what he will imply next, "Too excited watching Dream, huh George?"

Both George and Dream break out in disgusted yells. _Seriously, Sapnap?_

"Sapnap! Stop that!" George tries to crit out Sapnap with his axe. "That's gross!" George's words don't exactly match his voice. His pulse is like a drum inside his skull. He was still caught up in the fact that he spent ten minutes staring out of his window. Why did Dream have anything to do with that? Maybe a little bit of envy of his friend's house which actually has an AC unit. He brushes it off.

"I know what will keep his attention." Dream says, "The idea of seeing my face always gets George excited."

George groans at this, making Sapnap and Dream laugh. "Now, you're just trying to make me uncomfortable."

"It's because it's true." Sapnap states.

"Alright, I'm sick of you both." George exits the server. A small sound emits from Discord to report that he's left the call. The feeling from before returns- akin to the calm minutes after a song is over. Most nights, after his friends have logged off for good, George would go to bed in the hopes that he could wake up early enough so he could keep Dream company in the small moment when the Florida sunset meets the London sunrise. He knows that he always acts like he's upset at his friends, but he's not actually that upset. He just acts that way because they're so weird about everything- especially if it involves him and Dream. Although, it hurts him to know that when he joins Dream in the early morning calls, Dream was doubtful that he would show up. He wants to clarify that he wasn't ever really angry and the calls with him are his favorite, but the words never seem to form when he's actually with them. At least, it shows that Dream really cares.

He swivels around his chair to face his bed. The grey comforter has almost fallen onto the floor and the sheets are wrinkled. The window to the right of his bed that he had gotten lost in before displays a picture of the hot outside world. He sighs are wishes for rain that was almost taken for granted before. He remembers walking down the streets of London, his hoodie over his head and the rain dripping down from his umbrella. Those moments were always peaceful- a brief temperance from the misty air, splashes of the cars on the streets, the grumbling of the grey clouds above, like the clouds were letting go too- but it feels so far from him now that it doesn't even seem real. Specifically, because of this dreadful weather.

He turns off his computer and flops into bed. His eyes have almost completely adjusted to the dark when his phone vibrates, the notification lighting up the room once more, just like a lightning bolt would. He squints. A text from Dream.

_Sorry about making fun of you earlier_ , it reads. George clicks the link, opening up a new Glass Animals song in his Spotify.

"Heat Waves," he murmurs, making a small smile in the dark for nobody to see. _Very funny._

He'd listen to the song when he'd wake up the next morning. When he sets his phone back on his nightstand, he finds himself lingering on to the fact that Dream sent him some music to listen to. Dream was just a very thoughtful guy. George was appreciating it because of that. There wasn't anything more to it. Not that George actually found it unnerving that interacting with Dream had a direct correlation on his mood. However, George decided it wasn't worth making a fuss over.

Comforted by his own logic, George let himself try to find sleep. He slipped in and out of consciousness, occasionally tossing and turning in irritation at the cotton sheets. The fabric stuck to his skin until he eventually sluggishly kicked it away. Something falls to the floor and George rolls onto his side. Eventually, the night cools the world down enough for him to sink slowly into sleep until he turns his head from his warm pillow to a cold metal rod. Confused, he yanks his head from where it was leaning against the poll and finds that he's up in the air and slowly moving forwards. He holds onto the soft seat that he's sat on to help ground him.

He can tell that he's on a Ferris wheel at a carnival and stringed colorful lights glow all around him. The moon glows ominously overhead. The night is quiet, besides a few echoing voices from down below, a taunting breeze brushing the back of his neck brings chills down his spine. He looks down, seeing his bright shirt flapping slightly in the wind. Bright blue. A sinking feeling starts to rot in his stomach as the familiarity settles in. This isn't the first time he's been here. He turns around to look cautiously, and realizes that he's restrained by being secured onto the silver metal bench.

He pulls up his hood, tensing as he anticipates the next subject he'll recognize. At any moment, sitting right next to him, a voice will speak to him that'll say

— 

"George?"

He freezes. That's- that is not what's supposed to happen; that's not right, it wasn't supposed to be— 

"Dream?" He calls quietly, turning around slowly. Dream is sitting comfortably right next to him, one arm resting on the back of the bench and his two legs dangling in the air. His mask is on his face and he has an axe in his right hand that he has laying across his lap. Dream looks around at their location, dazed. The starry night sky reflects in the blade of his axe.

"Where are we?"

"Uh," George considers avoiding the answer to the question like he normally does, but he can't help giving in to the comfort of honesty, "my mind I guess." He knows that his mind values integrity more than anything. There is really no trying to keep any secrets Therefore, he decides to face it head on, so to speak. He just has no idea how Dream was let in here— it is not particularly a safe place.

"It's pretty." Dream comments, looking up at the sky and all the lights. George's heart aches slightly at the remark. At one point, he thought it was pretty too. He couldn't find the words in the moment to explain to Dream that after so many years of frantically struggling in his seatbelt, coughing up lung-fulls of smoke, and falling from the Ferris wheel— it had become a thing of nightmares. George simply stares at Dream. Could Dream tell what memories lie here? "So is this," Dream gestures around vaguely with his axe, "somewhere in London?"

George cracks a smile. "Yup, you finally made it," he teases softly, "after so many years of talking about it." The sound of Dream's wonder is enough to make him look away. "It's a Ferris wheel at a carnival that happens here every year. I went here as a kid."

"Woah, look at that!" Dream points at the water below to the left side of them. The Ferris wheel started glowing a bright blue and the river beside it reflected all the mystical lights. Fireworks started going off in the distance lighting up more of the sky. Between the carnival, the Ferris wheel, and all the other lights the river appeared to be glowing from the inside out.

"All the carnival lights," George whispers. He'd never seen this place so full of light before.

Dream hums in approval. George steals a small glance back at him and then looks away. The pale moonlight and the reflecting lights had made Dream glow, the edges of his face a soft porcelain and his hair waving slightly in the wind. Words bubble up from inside George's chest, coming from the depths of his heart, and land gracefully into his head.

_Beautiful._

George wants to back away from the thought, shove it back down and pretend it never existed in the first place. But for once, it felt safe, safe to admit something without needing an air of humor to disguise it. Here, in his own mind, he could say that it wasn't a joke.

"So, why are we here?" Dream murmurs. George can see in the reflection of Dream's axe his white goggles.

"I know why I'm here. I know," George starts, "but I don't know why you are." The creaking of the bench puts him on edge. "It's not safe here, Dream. We should go."

"Why? Why don't you want to stay in this memory?"

George ignores the comment and unbuckles his seatbelt. (Children please don't try this at home… or read sexual fanfics… why are you here???) Then he attempts to unbuckle Dream's seatbelt; Dream stops him with a confused frown.

"Nothing can hurt us if I'm here." he says.

George's face grows hot and he lets go of the seatbelt. "Knock it off. I'm serious."

Dream tilts his head a little, "What made you think this wasn't serious?"

Now that George is scooched over to Dream so much and Dream's arm is wrapped protectively around George's small frame, George becomes very aware of how close they are to each other. He can feel Dream's body heat, see his chest and rise and fall with every breath, and see the goosebumps on his neck. His heart begins to pound. How long did he want to see Dream for real? To hear his voice in person? The fear slowly forms into fondness. The lights start to flash on and off in a twinkling pattern mimicking the stars of the sky.

George can actually see Dream grin through a silver of his mask. "I told you it's pretty."

"That's because of you," George whispers warmly. Even though Dream rolls his eyes, it surprises himself how much he meant it. They laugh lightly at each other, and the lights twinkle a little faster.

Dream pushes his axe to the side, and raises his hand to reach for George's cheek. With a rush of adrenaline, George reaches for Dream's mask. Dream's hood falls and George gently runs his hands through his hair (okay sudden realization that I am very far gone now)— he can't believe what is happening before his own eyes. It feels very intimate. Terrifying even. As Dream slightly leans into his arm, he finds the metal clasp on the back of his head, and they both exhale when the mask drops from his face.

The breeze reaches Dream's rosy cheeks. Dream looks around once again and George's eyes are glued to Dream's breathtaking jade colored eyes and long eyelashes. His countless freckles dotted across his face make him want to wake up all night and count them.

"What did you- why- how? I never…" he looks back up at George.

"I know that honesty is important to you," He says coyly. His hand moves to Dream's cheek and he brushes his thumb over his cheekbone.

Dream reaches and delicately takes George's hand in his. George heart beat like a drum; he feels alive. He leans closer, studying Dream's eyes until he slips down to his soft lips. His breath is shaking as he hangs there.

"And what if I kissed you right now?" He murmurs, heart racing. "How honest would that be?"

Dream's eyes grow wide. "I— well, George— you— " he stammers, giving George enough of an answer.

Their movements nearly happen all at once— the inclining of Dream's jaw, the slide of George's hand into his hair, the connection of their lips. The kiss is a fire of emotion, but gentle like rain. The heat rises from George's chest to his face, Dream's lips surreal against his own as they override all of his senses. His hand rises to softly hold Dream's jaw. He pulls Dream's face closer, breath hot, heart loud. His nervous energy evolves into a fiery flame of longing and want as he kisses Dream again, and again, and again. Dream emits a small noise, and George melts all over again. He can feel Dream's hands in his hair, on his neck, then on his chest.

George pulls away for a second. His chest rises and falls rapidly as he looks at Dream's flushed cheeks nearly covering all his freckles and his mouth kissed red. He did that. A low feeling lights in his stomach, the first flickering of a dangerous burning fire. All of George, all of him, just for Dream.

George parts his lips to say something, anything — and promptly wakes up.


	2. Musical Chess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George wakes up in the face of his new reality after his nightmare and listens to the song Dream sent him.  
> \--  
> Inspired by tbhyourelame and their work titled "Heat Waves"  
> Also inspired by the song "heat waves" by glass animals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not take credit for the plot/ concepts!!!  
> I do not ship dreamnotfound / gream  
> (( context: I was commissioned by a friend to write the story from George's POV and then decided to post in on ao3 ))  
> If tbhyourelame wants me to take this down I will  
> Also, I try to do a better job than last chapter by making all the lines by own creation  
> If you haven't read the original text and tbhyourelame grants you permission to do so I would highly recommend it! This is the first time I've ever written a fanfic which is centered around someone else's fanfic so if I'm doing something wrong please do let me know.

The way George holds on to his mattress is as strongly as if he were on the edge of a cliff and about to fall. Drenched in his own sweat making everything feel too damp around him. He breathes uneasily as light breaks through his window and falls on him reminding him to get up and start the day. Although, the reminder is meaningless. George can only see in his mind the visions of his dream- maybe at this point he'd even call it a nightmare- play on repeat.

Slowly, he go and sits upright watching the sun creep into his room.

_What the hell was that nightmare?_

George can't tell how much time has passed as he's just sat there trying to get over it; the words Dream said and the looks he gave constantly invade his mind. George wants to shut it all away. It didn't happen. It wasn't real. What was Dream even doing in this nightmare? Why was Dream's protection the thing to make the events play out differently?

And why did he kiss him? What even was that?

His heart is pounding again and his hands feel empty enough that it unsettles him.

Maybe, he's just losing it. People have weird dreams all the time. It's probably not a big deal. Except, as he thinks those things his mind cannot help returning to the striking events. There were a lot of lines crossed in every stretch of the imagination, but he still couldn't help and admit that there was something there that appealed to him, even if it was just the simple idea of affection.

George gets up and fake gags at himself which makes him chuckle enough to move on.

Trying to be a little mindless, he pulls the towel off of where it hangs and gets ready to take a shower. George opens up his phone to check it when he realizes he has the song Dream sent last night open.

_Ah! That must be why I was dreaming about him. He was the last person I was thinking about._

George's finger hovers over the play button. It was just a harmless song. He presses play. A nice shower and good music should clear his mind, right? As the cold water runs down his face giving some sense of relief. Somehow all the water just brings him back to the feeling of Dream's mask in his hands; he thinks of Dream’s breath on his face. Augh.

At least George is grateful for the cold shower. Maybe it was the weather giving him a fever dream and he tries to aggressively scrub all the strange thoughts away. Suddenly, the music cuts back into his mind and it echoes like his own inner voice speaking back to him.

_Road shimmer, wiggling the vision, heat heat waves, I'm swimming in the mirror…_

His eyes shut.

_Sometimes, all I think about is you_

_Late nights in the middle of June_

_Heat waves been faking me out_

_Can't make you happier now_

Due to the fact that he had swayed into the shower wall, George opens his eyes. The lyrics find a rent free spot in his mind and it sings along to the rhythm of his heartbeat. His face is warm once again despite the rest of his skin feeling like ice.

_I just want to know what you're dreaming of,_

_When you sleep and smile_

_So comfortable…_

His hands start to shake.

_That look that's perfectly unsad_

His mind fills back up with Dream again and all the memories of his smile. With a swift motion, George shuts the off the water which gives a screeching squeak.

Letting the song play itself out, he sits on the bathroom rug in his towel. Water droplets drip down from his hair. For the last couple months, George hadn't been very adventurous in his day to day life. Game, eat, sleep, and work. There wasn't a day where he wasn't amused in some way by something, but rarely there was something so electrifyingly exciting as this. He was in shock and slightly on edge at Dream's song recommendation. As the song makes its last graceful calls George feels something stirring within him like being broken and healed at the same time. When the song leaves the room silent, George realizes that he hadn't felt so emotionally attached to a song in a long time. He hadn't felt this close to someone in this manner in a long time either.

With some kind of growl, he snatches the phone and debates throwing it into the toilet. Despite the crawling feeling inside his stomach that he was crossing too many lines he decided it would be better if he just went back to his room instead. Ruining his phone wouldn't make any real difference in his anguish.

Maybe, this was just for a little bit. After some time, it would wash over and be done with. Maybe, when his mind is done playing sick jokes he would wake up one day and feel normal again. This was just his mind keeping him running. There wasn't really anything there. _No, this isn't like that. This isn't just a little fascination. Not with Dream._ George knows well how to keep distance. If he just did that for a while it is possible that he realizes that he's not thinking straight. Knock some sense into himself.

His phone vibrates while he's getting dressed.

Hop on gogy the froggy, Sapnap texted.

Why are you awake right now, George texts back.

_Dream wanted to test the code out before his stream later, I know you never miss that_

George grits his teeth a little after reading the message and sighs in frustration. He was often irritated with his friends for their remarks and the crazy things they say, but now it's gotten a little bit more serious. Feeling refreshed, George sits down at his computer, adjusting everything a little bit, and while waiting for his computer to start up he puts on his headphones. He bites his lip unknowingly and his hands are tightly wound together. His heart beats in his ear a little as the screen lights up with the Discord window. His mouse shakes a little bit. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he joins the call. If it isn't okay inside at least on the outside he can pretend it is, right?

The channel is with Sapnap, Bad, and Dream.

"Dream! Hello!" Bad exclaims once he connects.

"That was quick." Sapnap says.

"Hi." George says plainly.

"Hey, George. How is your heat wave doing? Any better?" Dream asks. _I thought it would be fine- I thought…_ Even George's default words fail to form. Dream's voice mirroring the nightmare from before overcame him and he was at a loss of any sort of response. _I really don't want to talk about the heat wave…_

"George? Hello? You there?" Bad says.

"It's okay." George finally recovers, "Sorry. I'm a little tired."

"Don't worry about it," Dream says cautiously, "we're currently testing on the test server if you want to join. Sapnap and I are testing out the chess board, I think it works, but you might be able to find something I missed."

"Sure." George opens Minecraft mechanically with a small smile.

"Are you sure you want George to play? Doesn't he normally beat you, Dream?" Bad says.

"Yeah, he got better when he went and played with his college friends." George hops on and runs over to where they're gathered in the middle of the plains. In front is a large chess board, with giant pieces made with black and white concrete. Although, George's mind is more lost in the tone of Dream's voice. Was that jealousy he heard?

"That's probably the first time you've admitted George is better than you at something." Sapnap claims.

"You're wrong. Dream is honest." George catches himself after he says it, but it's too late. He's taken back to his nightmare where he told Dream, _and what if I kissed you right now? How honest would that be?_ He swallows hard at the vision of Dream's stupid smiling mask and how his green eyes had held all the lights of the carnival when they were on the Ferris wheel. Is it fair for him to expect everyone around to be honest when he isn't? Dream doesn't need to know- it'd be better if he didn't- but keeping it buried deep inside also feels _wrong_.

"Yet he hasn't shown you what his face looks like yet." Sapnap says knowing he can hold that against him.

"Oh, stop being so smug." George crits Sapnap, "I can't wait to see you be sorry when I beat you later." Bad picks flowers from the ground. "I'm not going to make Dream do anything. He can just send me a photo of him whenever he likes."

Dream laughs, "If he gets lost listening to my voice, what do you think he'll do if he gets a picture of me? It'll break him."

"I'm not going to be weird about it!" George pouts. "And you just have a nice voice. And it was really hot at the time and-"

"It's okay, George." Dream assures him in his joking voice, "I think you're beautiful too."

"Oh my god, you're so annoying. You're the one who keeps bringing the face reveal up so much. I don’t even care about it as much as you guys do."

"Yeah, that is true." Sapnap comments, "Dream is really shy about how he looks. He tries to avoid talking about it sometimes because he gets uncomfortable."

Dream grumbles, "I don't do that."

"Yes, you do." George starts. He feels a small fire in his chest and his words are spoken just as fast as sparks from the flame, a little too sweet. "Stop being so cute."

The call falls silent.

George bites his tongue. They must have heard it. There was an alteration in his voice, not the usual disregard of flirtatious advancements, not a silly topic to humor himself with. It came from his heart- a fire that won't be put out, but wavers with secrecy and shame- for Dream, and only Dream. They heard it, didn't they?

He stops moving and nobody speaks up.

"Woah, George. You're taking it very far." Dream comments in a joking manner. George lets out a breath he was holding in. It was okay; it was normal. Dream was taken aback, yet it was still normal.

"Okay, I'm taking it too far. _Okay."_

"Right… so are we going to start a game now?" Sapnap asks. If not Dream then, did Sapnap hear the infliction of his voice? George side-eyes his phone for a minute yet no messages come through.

The four of them play around on the server for a little bit, testing out the movement of the pieces and the taking of pieces which makes them explode- Sapnap's idea- and trying to find any bugs in Dream's code although it is perfect as always. Dream had been working on the chess game for a couple weeks now so it makes sense to be nearly finalized. Sometimes George and Dream find themselves speaking to each other in code like a second language. George allows the normalcy of the events to take over and tries to disassociate himself from everything but the work at hand. Dream recommends that George and Sapnap play the first game and that he'll stand up high somewhere so the stream can see the whole board.

After a bit, Bad dips and George leaves the server just for a second to catch the start of Dream's stream.

"Hello! Hello everyone!" Dream says, "Welcome! Um, today we're going to be playing chess in Minecraft. George and Sapnap are going to play first so you guys can watch how it works and then I'll play the next round." Dream's words blur into a hum of vibrations and George falls into hypnosis. His mind wanders back to the similarities of his voice to the voice of the man in his dream. His hand involuntarily reaches to rub his fingers against his own lips. As soon as he notices he drops his hand into his lap. _What is he doing?_ Dream's words ring back to him. _Way too far._

"Actually, I need to go make something to eat." Dream reports and gets up from his chair. George knew there had to be a reason Dream couldn't play first. Sapnap groans and breaks a random dirt block.

"Really? Right now? Dude, how am I going to beat George without your help?" Sapnap grumbles, "We just started."

"Sorry, I won't take long. You guys go ahead." George tries to put all his focus into beating Sapnap so he can prove his point. He thinks multiple steps ahead and tries to make sure that Sapnap can't get away with anything. It is an effective distraction until Dream's voice is heard once more.

"Hi Patches!" His voice has a ring to it, "Do you want breakfast?"  


George giggles, "Dream you're unmuted!"

"Patches says hi." Dream lets his cat meow into his mike which makes George's heart melt into a puddle onto the floor.

"Okay, okay. Let's get back to the game." He says to Sapnap. "It's your turn."

"Ugh, fine. Hmm…" While Sapnap is deciding his next move George looks at his phone which lights up. Not thinking much of it he picks it up and nearly drops it when Dream's name shows up on the screen.

"Dream sent me something!" He didn't mean to say it out loud but it was too late now.

"The chat is gonna go crazy until you tell them what he sent."

George decides to play it off as if it were intentional. "Most people think it's feet pics."

"Ah, yes. Dream is the master of feet pics."

"Wh-what? What'd you say?" He stammers.

Sapnap openly laughs, "Nothing!"

After reading a few concerning messages, George says, "Guys, it's not a big deal. Look I'm opening it now." With a small tremble of hesitation he opens it up. He lets go of a small breath as he realizes what the photo is. Just Patches. Then, at the bottom Dream had written something.

_You want this to be a picture of my face instead don't you?_

That's not part of the script. His adrenaline soars and it escapes him to look calm and collected. The rush gives him the motivation to send him something back. Quickly, taking a random picture of his desk, he writes back.

"Ooh, George is a little rosy in the cheeks. What is it?" Sapnap cackles.

_Patches is cute, but I bet you look cuter._

He shouldn't have sent that. He shouldn't have sent that. He closes his phone and sets it down, not willing to look at it any longer.

What was he trying to achieve with that? Winning his way to his heart? He doesn't even know what he looks like. He's going crazy.

"I am not. You're just imagining things and trying to do fanservice. It was just a picture of Patches, no big deal chat. Alright, my turn!" George takes a good look at the board and the arrangement of the pieces.

Luckily, George had already made his move when Dream yells, "GEORGE!" George laughs nervously as he has done many times before.

"Stop texting Dream and actually play. I've already made my move." Sapnap comments.

"Sapnap, you're the one to talk. George is absolutely obliterating you." Dream sat down at his computer once more apparently with his breakfast in hand. And he wasn't wrong. There were past midway and George was far in the lead by that point.

"Alright, if you think you can do better then go ahead. Be my guest." Sapnap forfeits and they switch spots. Dream's smiley-face in game skin puts George on a little high alert. After a little while the tables turn. Dream, "sponsored by Sapnap", had set up a fork and had even demolished a rook he had tried to use to break the castle defense. The heat is on his queen which is a possible take for Dream in the next move.

"Oh my god, Dream. Sapnap! This is so unfair; you guys are teaming up on me."

"So, what're you gonna do about it?" Sapnap asks rhetorically.

There wasn't much to do except play a little out of the bounds. He had to distract Dream so he'd mess up with his placement. George swallows hard with as he notices Dream hovering over his bishop- oh how he wished Dream had gone for the pawn!

George had been fairly quiet as soon as Dream started playing against him that it would catch Dream off guard. There was only a slim chance it would work but George didn't want to lose his title as "better than Dream at chess". Plus, he didn't want the stream to see him lose either. If George hadn't already been sweating he sure would be now.

What could he say? Quick!

The first and only thing that comes to mind is his nightmare he had last night. He had to do it. His tongue feels numb as if it were in shock at what secret he was letting out.

"I had a dream about you, Clay." George blurts. His hand tightens around his mouse and

"What? What?" Dream exclaims and his piece lets go into the wrong square.

"Aww no! Dream!" Sapnap says.

"Okay, that was bull." Dream grumbles as George demolishes the piece with his queen.

"Nope, you already placed it! It's been placed!"

"That shouldn't count. It's not a real chess tactic! He's just distracting me."

"George, stop being such a big cheater."

"I'm not cheating! Dream placed it in the wrong spot."

"That was a cheap trick." Dream backs it up when he realizes the chat is going wild. "Uh, George what was that dream you were saying?"

It was as if Dream took a match to George's face and lit it on fire. He just needed to play it off. "We were in London," he starts, trying to play casual, "and it was nice. I have a recurring dream, uh about the same Ferris wheel. You just… happened to be there. Normally you aren't there, but you were in the recent version I guess?"

"Oh, did I have anything on me?" Dream wonders.

"Uh, yeah. A diamond axe."

"Wow, well I use axes a lot." Dream comments, "It's funny when people tell me that I'm in their dreams because it's like a memory they have with me except if they never tell me about it then it’s a one sided memory. I was just thinking out loud."

"Well, if we're sharing then I have had a dream too. I went to England with Dream and while we were finding our way out to get George, George was sniping us with a bow and arrow from afar. It was actually really funny." He laughs at his vision.

"What kind of weapon would Sapnap have?" Dream wonders.

"Maybe a flint and steel?" George likes having the attention off of him and he breathes a little bit easier.

"I am the arson man." Sapnap claims.

After this, they play a couple more rounds with George getting the most wins second to Dream. As time passes it eventually becomes midday which brings the hot weather roaring back to life. George doesn't notice right away until the air starts to feel stuffy and beads of sweat form on his upper lip. He reaches for his water bottle and finds it empty when he lifts it to his lips to drink.

"Ugh!" he says. Dream and Sapnap ask him what is happening. "It's back again!" he breathes out in defeat, "I thought it was all over!"

"Did the heat come back? That sucks." Sapnap says.

"I think I'm going to have to lay down." George states feebly.

"It actually is a heatwave. Sorry," Dream says, "I didn't mean to jinx you like that! I was actually trying to be nice." George gets hit with the song and he bites his lip nervously before answering.

"I liked the song." He mumbles simply. Dream internalizes it and the conversation moves on.

At the end of it all, Dream ends the stream and as it gets late for George. Sapnap leaves, tired after tanking so many losses. They're alone in the call now; and George resists the urge to run away to bed and not have to talk. Normally, Dream and George hang out here and talk for a while enjoying themselves. Yet between the sweaty keyboard and emotional stress George wasn't having it today.

"The chat was asking about your dream a lot." Dream breaks the ice. "I think it's going to go viral."

"Who really cares that much? Dreams are strange things." George waits.

"Yeah, but I'm curious about what it was about too."

"Well… there wasn't too much to it." George lies. _I took off your mask._ "It was really short." _I kissed you._ "So, not a lot happened." _I wanted you to make me yours._ Dream starts typing and then he suddenly stops- nothing.

"You said that I normally aren't there. Does that mean someone else is normally there? I don't know if I'm reading into it too much or not… you sounded scared."

"I-"

"Who is it?"

"Uh," George fidgets in his seat, "Well, normally it's a different version of me.

"A different version of you?"

"Yeah, I can never see him that well. He's always blending in with the shadows." George feels like he's getting too close to the truth.

"George," The soft way Dream says his name makes his heart ache, "what kind of a dream is it regularly?" George doesn't like the idea of burdening Dream with his own problems. However, if not Dream then who will he confide in? George shuts his eyes at the way Dream spoke the words feeling like he's letting out the bottled up torture inside of him.

"It's… a nightmare," he mumbles, holding onto his desk. "It's very common. I wake up in the middle of a ride in a silver Ferris wheel at midnight; a large river with boats on it is under the Ferris wheel and to the left. I always am stuck in the cart by the seatbelt. Out of the shadows in between all the lights of the carnival is the second me- who has a bloody suit and tie and dripping blood from his glasses and- then, then…" George struggles to finish it off. He never tells others what's going on in his mind.

"What happens?" He asks softly.

George hands dig into his desk, his fingernails leaving scratches. "I try and escape as quickly as possible. Sometimes I climb. Sometimes I jump. Sometimes I run. It just never works." He takes a breath before continuing, "Sometimes we have a struggle and other times he stabs me. Sometimes we both drown. And sometimes I just let him throw me off."

"Do- do you… ever manage to… get him away from you?"

"Rarely." George answers. "Except, it is never over. Every time I return back there, high up on the Ferris wheel, dangling feet over the edge. I- I think it's like torture." There is a sense of fear always in the dream space and there is always the confidence to conquer the unconquerable challenge. It feels to George as if he always bounces between those options in the nightmare and never finding one that will keep him safe.

"Well, this had a lot more to it then you were letting on. Nothing really happened?" He chuckles softly with understanding. "Well, if you don't mind me asking, why was I there?"

"I'm not sure." George responds. "I was shocked when I saw you and the story of the nightmare… it changed. And I didn't see the alternate version of me." He prays that Dream won't prod any further into the ideas of it.

"Well, I'm glad I was able to make things better for you. Are you sure you're getting good sleep? Are you stressed about anything?" Dream asks.

"I don't think those things are causing it. I'll work on it though." George smiles a little bit when he hears Dream smile a little too. Perhaps, he shouldn't jump to the conclusion that he can't confide more in Dream. He's not his best friend for nothing. His mind gets caught on the words best friend for a second.

"I would let you go now," Dream starts, "except I want to share that you were in a dream I had once too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the support! uwu  
> Sorry this took so long! I got really busy with school and other things going on,, but I am finally finished with chapter 2 w0w  
> if you're wondering when the next chapter will be,,, probably during this winter break.  
> Have a good day / night !!


	3. Unfair Fairness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George finds himself trying to understand his own feelings through waves of worry, regret, anticipation, and mind numbing discoveries.  
> \--  
> Inspired by tbhyourelame and their work titled "Heat Waves"  
> Also inspired by the song "heat waves" by glass animals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not take credit for the plot/ concepts!!!  
> I do not ship dreamnotfound / gream  
> (( context: I was commissioned by a friend to write the story from George's POV and then decided to post in on ao3 ))  
> If tbhyourelame wants me to take this down I will  
> If you haven't read the original text and tbhyourelame grants you permission to do so I would highly recommend it! This is the first time I've ever written a fanfic which is centered around someone else's fanfic so if I'm doing something wrong please do let me know. Thanks for all the suggestions so far on improvements!  
> \---  
> From this point onwards I've altered the plot and planned it all out so only the key moments are really the same, not in the same order though, and the mood is different from the original as I try and go for a less depressive turn for George and also I'm trying to wrap up the story in seven chapters instead of how in the original its ongoing. Additionally, my ending is really different from the original and I'm excited for that! I really hope that I've started to bring something to the story unlike before and that you enjoy it! <3 (Also I don't mind any criticism, sharing of my work, or comments! In fact it would be greatly appreciated!)

"I would let you go now," Dream starts, "except I wanted to share that you were in a dream I had once too."

"You're joking." George replies, "Are you?"

"No, no I'm not." Dream laughs, "Do you want to know what it was about?"

"Yes." George's voice doesn't match the electrifying excitement coursing through him as he sits up in his chair. "Tell me!" Maybe, dreaming about friends was more normal than he thought. But, still nothing could make his nightmare feel normal. It was nice to know that Dream was thinking about him in his sleep in a comforting way.

"Hmm. So, what if I don't tell you?"

"Hey, you owe me something after ganging up on me when we were playing chess. " George feels a little sense of stability and control over the situation.

"What do you want me to do for you?" The way Dream says makes George imagine his mischievous smile pushed up against the mike.

"Not like that!" George huffs, "I just want you to tell me the story of your dream."

"Aww, George. It's okay I know that I'm all that you think about."

"Stop teasing me! See this is why I wasn't planning on telling you about that nightmare I had."

"Alright fine!" Dream backs up, "Sorry, I didn't mean to upset you."

"You know what, maybe you can tell me some other time."

"George…"

George hangs up on him and sighs of relief. He has butterflies in his stomach every time Dream jokes about it. George thought they were just playing a joke. Dream probably thinks that too. Now, it's not the same for George anymore. He can still feel the goosebumps on his skin from some of the things he said to him. He isn't laughing anymore. The words are going straight to his heart.

His left arm lies limp on the table and his right hand grabs a fistful of his own shirt. The whole ordeal makes him dizzy. The feeling is too familiar to another time and too sickening to clearly define.

It's so unfair how his mind is being haunted by the very thing its attracted by. He keeps wanting Dream's words to be a little bit more real than he meant them. A little more real. A little more real. He's searching through the forest in the dark trying to find a mythical crystal in the ground, smaller than his pinky, that may not even have ever existed. Nevertheless, his mind is ruthlessly chasing after the concept. How is this fair?

George's phone buzzes violently.

EXESSIVE HEAT WARNING: 102 degrees. Please watch out for heat stroke, exhaustion, and…

At this message, George groans.

He turns to twitter and types out a little tweet.

_Heat waves are not a joke_

He scrolls through a little bit, happy to find a distraction, and reads comments. He likes one of the comments saying, "LETS GET GOGY AN AIR CONDITIONER!". George replies, "Should I make a go fund me for this?" and as he posts he gets a notification that Sapnap has also made a tweet. Curious, he opens it up to find Sapnap's poll which asks, "which is better: sweaty Dream, sweaty Sapnap, or sweaty George". With a little chuckle George selects Dream and then turns to Snapchat to send him a cheeky message.

_Hey, what're you up to? Did you see Sapnap's poll?_

_Yeah, I just came back from the gym and I saw it. It's funny because I'm pretty sweaty right now; I should probably take a shower haha_

_So, who did you pick?_

_Who did you pick?_

_You._

_Haha why? Do you want me to suffer a heat wave with you?_

_Yeah, I wanna keep you sweaty. you're better that way_

George sucks in a sharp breath. It's too late. He's already typed it and sent it. His mouth goes dry. He waits. Dream isn't replying. He isn't. He isn't. He left him on read. Swallowing hard George closes his phone.

"Augh, why did I do that?" A feeling of dread creeps into his heart as time passes on. He needs to stop. Even though there is a small part of him that keeps calling for him to find out if Dream really swings his way. It's like his body is in a tug of war of his mind. He needs to stop.

He hopes that Dream might take it as another joke. He's just kidding. George rereads his message. Oh, god. It doesn't. It doesn't sound like he's kidding. Hand falls limp on the table, the other tightens into a fist. He gets up staring hard at his desk.

He goes to his kitchen. _Not fair._

He chugs a jug of water and it's not enough to satisfy him. _Fair for Dream._

He gets on his couch and pulls up the first movie recommended to him. He needs to lose himself in something. But as the movie starts up he can't help the feeling of wanting to call Dream or text him again or- ugh. He can't. He needs to stop for Dream. He needs to stop. _Unfair fairness._

When the end scenes play out and the names climb up the screen and slowly fade it black, George finds his reflection staring back at him. His cat in curled up next to him on the couch and he can see the shape of his hair and the shape of his hands. When Dream met him in his sleep is this what he saw? Or did he see someone else that was just a mirror of him on the outside and not on the inside? In his dream, Dream was like the blood in his veins and the heart in his chest. Would Dream see him as he truly was? Or just a mirage? If Dream were here suffering the heat with him he would make the world a little more bearable in almost a million different ways. He could be sitting on the couch next to him now, complaining about the movie, laughing at the dumb parts, and discussing all the good parts. And George knows very well that the whole time he wouldn't be able to stop looking at Dream. The ravenous heat would fade away; he could hold his hand, make him red faced, and pull him right up next to him.

Flinching he startles his cat who jumps off the couch. Holding his head in his hands he rubs his face. An endless cycle drags him back to it: the carnival, hands in Dream's hair. That same place where he'd made out with his- his best friend- and craved every way he touched him. Like a record scratching he stops the tape. No, maybe these feelings aren't real. He's never been good with feelings... So, maybe, these feelings are what differentiates himself from his alternate version. The version that has a little less space next to him when he sleeps at night. Goosebumps prick his back as he sits with the thought.

George realizes that he needs answers and maybe the song Dream sent could give him some. He presses play again, using speakers this time, and holds a pillow tight to his chest. The song drifts in and out of his mind and wishes some more that he was closer to Dream and there was less space between them even though he knows that he would never ask himself.

_Usually I put somethin' on TV  
_

_So we never think about you and me_

_But today I see our reflections clearly in Hollywood_

_Laying on the screen-_

The song abruptly ends and Dream's ringtone fills the room. Dream's profile picture stares back at him. He wonders how the world keeps them so tied together all the time even though they're an ocean apart.

"Hey Dream." George forcibly acts casual. It's only weird if he makes it weird.

"Hi!" Dream says back with a high pitch in his voice as if listening to him say hello brought him more joy than anything else in the world. It touched George in his soul a little bit, a little too much for him to actually admit.

"I wanted to chat a little bit… if that's okay." His words bounce off the walls of George's mind and he finds himself falling into the way he smooths over his words and how his American accent sounds so charming. He never really took it upon himself to recognize his friend's accent. Sometimes, he would make fun of it. Mostly, though it was just how Dream sounded.

"George?"

"Uh, yeah. Sorry I'm still here. Yes, that’s fine we can talk. I'm just going to go to my car now."

He chuckles in response, "Okay, so what were you up to?"

"Well, I was watching a random movie and then I listened to the song you sent me again." George didn't think too much into it. Surely, Dream would just take it as him being a good friend and appreciating what he sent him to listen to. His mind is partially occupied anyway with a sudden plan to go visit the carnival grounds he saw in his nightmare in the hope that it would provide him some kind of closure. He gets his car keys, packs something to eat, and checks for his wallet.

"I'm glad you liked it. I thought you might. It sounds really unique; I think I listened to it for a week straight the first time I heard it."

"Yeah." George simply agrees. Internally, he wonders if Dream had also listened to it in the way he had. Looking for answers he doesn't know, finding things about himself he never knew, and trying to piece together what kind of string really ties them both together. If he also finds himself occasionally coming back to the same image of comfort: just the two of them, holding each other, and being able to hear their heart beats coinciding with each other. He fumbles with his keys at the door. "I can't stop thinking about you." Wait.

"What did you say?" He said that out loud? _Heat waves have been faking me out._

"I said that I can't stop thinking about it too. The song. It's really good."

"Yeah, you're welcome." Phew. George can't believe he slipped up like that. Normally, it's not too difficult to gloss over his issues. The safe feeling of Dream's voice deceives him. Hopefully, Dream didn't read into it very far.

"So, are you planning on getting on Bad's stream? Or…?"

"I'm tired because of the heat wave. I think I'll just take a quick drive. Been laying around in the house too much." He replies in an almost defeated way.

"Fair enough." Dream answers, "Where are you going?"

"Oh, nowhere in particular. Maybe just to not be in my very insulated house." George skips over the real answer, extra careful not to slip up again. He wipes the sweat off his forehead and gets in his car, turning the AC up all the way. "Ah, yeah the car is much better."

"You know the poll that Sapnap made? Apparently, Sapnap picked himself." Dream laughs and George rolls his eyes and slowly backs out onto the road. "And you have a thing for me being sweaty huh?"

"I mean who wouldn't? You won the poll didn't you?" George replies trying to simulate indifference.

"Yeah, but it's very important when it's about you, George." He laughs back in response and enjoys the feeling of being on the road, just a little bit closer to his destination. The innocently idiotic idea of driving infinitely away from all the problems of life- the heat wave and his feelings- until they're just a tiny insignificant speck in the universe.

"Alright, well I don't want to distract you while you're driving so if you want to talk later you know where to find me. Bye! Love you." George's heart gets caught in his throat for a second.

"Of course. Bye!" He disconnects and turns his attention to mindlessly driving out to the ends of the Earth and reminding himself every time he sees a mirage on the road up ahead that reality can be deceptive. Feeling like he needs something to listen to he puts heat waves in his car speakers and eventually arrives to the carnival grounds.

He finds a spot to park and leaves the beautifully chilling car to go out and walk in the place of his childhood memories and nightmares. Walking through the crowd, cutting right through with more efficiency than anyone around him like an among us ghost, and sits down at a nearby bench. Nearly burning himself, he steers clear from touching anything and a tiny breeze coming from the river in front of him, where the giant silver ferris wheel stands, makes it a little more bearable.

The more he looks around the more uncomfortable he gets. Noticing that everyone in the crowd has come there with someone, a friend, a parent, a sibling, a lover. And he was the only one alone. At one point he wasn't. In his childhood memories he wasn't. In that time he wasn't. He used to go play with his friends when he was a kid and goof around at this very carnival center. Eating churros and standing in line to go on the ferris wheel. George found a lot of joy out of forcing his cousin to go, since he was scared of heights, and would cover his eyes and cry on the way down. Of course, he cared about his cousin. Still, it was funny.

When Dream was with him here, nobody else was. It was empty and the demon version of himself- there were many versions at this point he'd realized- was not there like usual. Perhaps, it was the prospect that this place is an embodiment of his loneliness. A scary thing to admit, when he has so many online friends, but a real thing. And that very loneliness had been killing him over and over. Because none of his childhood friends came back here. They moved on. And he's sitting back in the same bench he sat in when he was thirteen, longing for someone to fill up more of the bench space for him. It was a miserable reality.

_Is this the answer he was looking for?_

He dwells in it for some time, realizing that the carnival grounds was indeed more dull in the day time, and his trance is broken when Sapnap calls him.

"George!"

"Hey, Nick."

"Dude, where are you? I wanted to talk. I'm doing something right now and I was wondering if you could get on Discord real quick and help me with it."

"Uh, yeah I'm not home right now."

"Then where are you?"

"I- well I was just driving around in circles for a while-"

"George!" He nervously messes with the end of his shirt. "Why are you driving around in circles?"

"Because my car has air conditioning! And also," George sighs, "I wanted to visit a place."

"Visit a place? How ominous." He laughs but it's not harsh. Just curious. "So, are you there right now?"

"Yeah. I am." He stirs in his thoughts for a second, "It sucks. I don't even know why I came."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Sapnap's electric voice falls flat. "Do- do you want to talk about it? The heat wave over there has been really beating you up, I know, so if you like want to vent about it… I mean you can trust me with it."

"Thanks, that’s considerate of you." He takes a breath in before letting the words fall out, "I came back to the place of my nightmare. The carnival grounds and the ferris wheel. From my childhood. I came because I wanted to find answers. I don't… I don't think I like my answer."

"Answers…" Sapnap is careful before proceeding which isn't too often for him, "about… what?"

"I don't particularly like the idea of telling you about it." George feels sweat form on his upper lip and his palms feel clammy. He should go back to his car. He should drive out far somewhere. Far from here. Far from his home. Far… far from what really? At the end of the day it doesn't matter where you go to escape. Loneliness will find you. "That's the thing though, it's been eating away at me and I can't- I really shouldn't keep it in. I feel like it would be better if I told you."

"It's up to you, George. And you can trust me. I'm your friend and I got your back." He laughs just a little, "I know I don't say that often, I cuss you out more I think, but I hope you trust me when I say that. I just want to help you."

"I trust you." George crosses his legs and feels tight in his heart. "See, I came to find answers about myself. Because this awful heat wave, and these stupid f*#king nightmares, and the fact that I feel so terribly sh*t all the time. I'm so f*!king alone." The silence that fits between them is a deep one.

"And the last nightmare I had. I feel like my mind and my heart are all tangled up in each other… and Clay. He- he is the biggest of my problems."

"What did he do?"

"That's the thing. He didn't do anything! He's just being himself and my nightmare wants to go ahead and tear everything apart. And it's me. Or another version of me." George is a sweaty mess at this point, he wipes off his face with the inside of his shirt, and his other hand not holding the phone shakes in his lap. His face feels like hot coals with shame and his teeth are tight. "I- I kissed him." The way he says it out loud both sounds like he's terrified and shocked at the revelation himself. Sapnap must have been shocked too as he doesn't say anything. The reality hits the both of them like a brick wall.

"Well," Sapnap clears his throat, "Did you want to? Or was that just your nightmare making you?"

"That's…" George rubs tears that have sprung up at the edge of his eyes as he recollects himself. "That's the thing I'm trying to figure out. Because I… I didn't kiss him like- like a friend. I kissed him like I wanted him to take me. Over and over. And I- I said things to him. And I can't tell if I really wanted that or not." His voice breaks, "If I want him or if it was just a mirage on the road, figment of my imagination."

"That's really intense dude." Sapnap replies his tone completely morphed into a serious and contemplating one. "Look, don't worry too much. Even if you feel different towards Dream that doesn't mean everything is going to change. Don't think about how to be around him or what he'll think if he finds out. It won't be good for either of you. Less thinking is better." He advises, "Go with the flow. And once the heat wave is over I'm sure you'll feel better."

George breathes a little more normally than he had been for the last five minutes. It's more even and more relaxed. His rocking back and forth in the bench has stopped and his tears are dry. "Sapnap." His voice is shaky, scared, and vulnerable. Breaking at the seams. Dead sounding. Scratchy. "Thank you, but I… I need to go home. I think I've found my answer."

"Okay, okay. Hey, you can leave me on the phone while you drive just so you don't feel lonely on your way home. And I promise I won't tell Dream." Sapnap offers.

"Yeah, I'd appreciate that." Shaky but happier.

"You got it. And don't mention it."

\----

When George gets home he gets a slice of comfort pizza and innocently takes a picture with it that he sends to Dream, a little guilty that he had been ignoring him for the rest of the day.

_Hey there. What r you doing?_

_Better, I went out for a drive. Hbu?_

George feels like talking more about Dream than about himself.

_I'm doing good, just had dinner Where did you go?_

_I just went around in circles really_

_Haha that’s cute_

Typical Dream. George feels his cute little grey cat brush against his leg.

_Why did you want to just drive around?_

_Needed some fresh air, nightmares you know_

_Do I keep you up at night? I'm sorry_

_No, no it's not your fault it's unfair for you to say that and it's nice to be around you_

_You're just lonely_

_You're not wrong._

_You can come be lonely with me sometime_

_Omg_

_Hehe you keep walking into these, it's like you want me to say them_

Rolling his eyes, George's stomach growls and he takes a big bite. Typing with his non-dominant hand he sends the message and when he looks back up at it he reads to his horror the words: _It's hot_

Frantically with forceful fingers he types _not NOT NOT_

_Oh really? You think it's hot?_

_I didn't mean to say that_

_You aren't saying that its wrong tho_

_You're really trying to spin this around on me aren't you? Well it doesn't matter anyway I'm sure people compliment you all the time anyway_

_That’s nice to say even though you haven't seen my face yet_

_I've seen you a little bit here and there_

_You want more?_

_Yes_

It was at this moment where George's mind had finally caught up with the texts on the screen and that his heart was taking over. A little panicked. Trying to remain calm. It's just Dream.

_What do you want to see_

_Your hands are nice_

With the last of his self-control sent in a little message to Dream he shut the phone and cleaned up the table. He made his way to his room and decides to sleep, exhausted from his trip to the carnival ground. The cool side of his pillow is refreshing.

Biting his lip, George opens up the photo Dream has sent him. The little red square was daunting and nerve-wracking more than it should be. It's a picture of Dream's hand petting Patches sitting in his lap. When George tries to think of something mischievous to do he falters a little imaging Dream's smooth hands on his face or wrapped around his waist pulling him in closer. And then a mischievous thought replaces the previous one. He screenshots it.

_George! What the hell_

_I'm gonna black mail you with this for sure_

_Yeah right_

_What? Are you doubting me?_

_Heh if you tweet that I'll tweet you calling me hot. Game over_

_Unlikely that anyone would even believe that_

_:(_

_You really want me to say it don't you_

_Yes. Come on, just say that I'm hot. I think you're hot_

George hesitates. A little bit of fear comes back into his heart from this morning. It's fair for Dream to say things when he might not mean them. That doesn't make them hurt any less.

_You don't really mean that_

_I won't lie to you_

_You're just joking_

_Send me a selfie. Prove me wrong, George._

Dream had never asked a selfie from him before. George turns around in bed so he's lying on his stomach. He's shirt is thin and he's sweating, he hadn't bothered to tame his hair, and it’s a low lit photo in the dark. Its angled in a way where you can slightly see down his shirt and he sends it with a small match stick of hope that Dream would like what he saw. And that he would take him in his arms. And even if he won't and doesn't think of him that way, perhaps, he would still appreciate his honesty.

_Did I prove you wrong?_

_No you definitely didn't_

_Are you sure about that?_

_What am I not sure about George? What can I do to make it all real for you_

He typed the next two words well aware that it would bring him to his knees at least or at most to a terrible demise and yet he does it anyway, tempted by the opportunity to hear his voice. _Call me_

At this point, George already admits defeat. It's really late and Dream is probably tired of all the back and forth by now. He rests his head and sets his phone on his bedside table. He pulls his grey covers over himself when the phone rings. _Dream._


	4. Mirrored Mirages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George finds out about Clay's dream, meets with his internal foes, and approaches his previous fears with hope. Oh, and of course… with a mysterious gift of motivation.  
> \---  
> Inspired by tbhyourelame and their work titled "Heat Waves"  
> Also inspired by the song "heat waves" by glass animals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not take credit for the plot/ concepts!!!  
> I do not ship dreamnotfound / gream  
> (( context: I was commissioned by a friend to write the story from George's POV and then decided to post in on ao3 ))  
> If tbhyourelame wants me to take this down I will  
> If you haven't read the original text and tbhyourelame grants you permission to do so I would highly recommend it! This is the first time I've ever written a fanfic which is centered around someone else's fanfic so if I'm doing something wrong please do let me know.  
> Thanks for all the support!  
> \---  
> This chapter is a little shorter because its buildup for the events that will happen later on. Also I'm going to be doing a lot of pacing shifts starting from this chapter. I hope you guys enjoy!

Fumbling around in the dark for a few seconds he picks up his phone which vibrates aggressively in his hand. Putting his phone on his pillow, he picks up the call and puts him on speaker.

"Hey, George." He greets casually.

"Dream! I didn’t think you'd actually call me."

"Well, you told me to. I couldn't just say no…"

"Well…" George starts, "I'm going to sleep and-"

"Are you in bed too?" Dream blurts.

"Uh, yeah." The picture of Dream leaning over his phone on his bed, messy hair covering his glossy eyes, causes George to take a minute to revert back to their conversation.

"You said you want to know if it's all real George. So, I'm here to tell you that it is real." Dream claims.

"What'd you mean?" He pulls his covers closer to him.

"That I'm honest with you and that I think that you're hot."

"Hmph. You still haven't told me what your dream was about." George smiles in the dark at his quick rebuttal, "So, if we're talking about honesty-"

"You were the one who hung up. But fine, I'll tell you." He sighs, "In my dream, I was stuck at the London airport. So, I called you and asked if you could help me. And then you found me somehow, riding one of the busses, and you told me to follow you so I did. We escaped from the bus and found our way back into the main building. There was one point where we were trying to figure out the elevators and I remember that being really funny." He chuckles, "And we kept trying over and over to leave the airport and it would never work out but it was so fun to hang out that it didn't even matter anymore."

"That's sweet." In Clay's dream, having each other there made it more bearable too.

"Yeah. We raided all the stores and food courts and basically took over the airport. And at one point we were sitting and looking out from the cockpit of a plane and-" He's so close to the phone that George can hear him swallow, "you convinced me to take off my mask just a little so you could see my eyes," Green eyes with sparkling, crackling gold flakes made of mystery and wit, long lashes and scattered freckles, it all comes back to George. "a-and then… you kissed me on the forehead."

The last few words come all together and in a rush, so much so all the meanings make him dizzy. He took Dream's mask off in both of their dreams? And kissed him? What is that supposed to mean? His tongue falls flat in his mouth and stunned silence sits between them.

And if he had the chance to do it… to kiss Dream—only once in real life—would he take it? And what would he do with it?

"You're never going to let this go, aren't you?" Dream laughs weakly, "George?" He hadn't realized how badly he wanted to hear Dream say his name in an intimate way, right next to his ear, just for him, in the dead of night, and in a way that the gravelly undertone of his voice slides into his mind and numbs every part of it.

"What did it feel like?" A little of an unhinged question to ask; George feels like taking chances tonight if he's only got one opportunity.

"You kissing me?"

"Yeah."

"It- it felt good. I- I mean I liked it. It was pleasant." An electrifying shock runs through.

"You know what else is pleasant?"

"What?" A little nervous and a little glad they are getting away from his dream embarrassment.

" _This._ These late night calls. I really like them. I like talking to you. And when you're just talking to me your voice changes just a little, just for me. And I like it." George covers his mouth, shaking a little. Never is he usually so forward. Never is he usually so clear. Unlike all the other times he's so close to the truth that the words "I like it" could have easily fallen into "I like you" and even "I love you". And he doesn't know if they would be true or just a mirage or projection of himself and yet they would have fallen out easily if he let his self-control go.

Dream laughs a little bit in a soft way. "I'm glad." A little surprised, upbeat pitch in his voice. "I like these calls we have too. I suppose I should call you more often then, huh?" George's head subconsciously slides towards the phone. His eyes start to dip down and his mind fogs up.

  
"Yeah. You should… yeah. Just… call me. More." His words mush together and his eyes fall shut. He can hear Dream's breathing through the phone and can almost picture resting his head on his chest, heat radiating, and the deep murmur of Dream's voice as he sinks farther into his arms.

\-----

George wakes up to find that his recurring nightmare didn't occur at all. It was hope for the new day that one challenge was tackled already. The other thing he found was his phone, which he slept on top of all night, which vibrates and pings aggressively.

_Hey, you fell asleep during our call last night while I was talking. Don't worry about it though, I don't mind. Btw I have to talk with you and Sapnap about some bad news but it's not too major. It'll be in an hour or so. I hope you slept well_

Some… bad news? George had deceivingly thought also that maybe things would be different because he didn't have his usual nightmare and after his midnight talk with Dream. Things would be different. Better. Not like this. Not worse.

Was it something to do with the fans? Or something to do with the branding? Or something to do with him getting doxed? Or his previous girlfriend? Or taxes? There were like a million possibilities and none of them seemed any bit of okay. Even worse, it could be about he said the night before, the photos, the flirty banter, and anything that he might have found off.

The anticipation makes George take a breath and go drink a glass of water. Coming back to his phone a minute later he texts back.

_What is the bad news about?_

_I'll let you know in full detail when we're in the call with Sapnap; essentially, I'm taking a break from work for a bit to spend time with family._

The weight lifts off his shoulder. Nothing horrendous. Good.

_Okay that's not too bad_

_Sapnap and I are already in the call. Can you join now?_

_Yeah yeah I'm coming_

George gets on the discord call realizing that he's been talking to Dream ever since he came back home from his trip to loneliness land.

"Hey, George."

"Hello!"

"Hi!" George greets, "So, what's the bad news Dream?"

"Well, my family decided that they're doing a road trip I literally can't say no to it. It's for a week and obviously I'll be busy and won't be able to work during that time so I'll basically be like on vacation for a week. I mean it's not too much of a big deal but I know we talk everyday basically so I just wanted to make sure you guys knew and didn't think I disappeared all of a sudden." He pauses for a breath, "It's hard to lug around a laptop and text and call you guys while I'm on the road so I'm not going to be online either."

"That's good that you get to go on a road trip with your family. Yeah, we'll handle it all while you're on vacation. We'll handle it well. Right George?" Sapnap declares.

"Yeah. We'll make sure of it." He halfheartedly says the statement as the other half of his heart is hanging off the words 'I'm not going to be online'. A crushed feeling stirs. He had just found his cure. He had just found his healer. Something— someone— that could sew his broken pieces back together and restore his lonely heart to a better state. To feel loved. _You can come be lonely with me sometime._ That's what he told him.

Now, that very thing has come to unravel it all leaving too many loose ends. Who will fill up his space now? Who would fill the silence of the room? Who would live in the emptiness of his heart? Who would light him on fire? Who would suffer through the heat wave with him?

He said that he should call more often. That he would. George told him that he liked it. He fancied their late night calls. Yet maybe, it wasn't Dream's doing. His family may have roped him into it; his family is important too.

"I'm sad though. We had so many plans coming up. And I know we talk everyday but a week is a long time to not talk to my best friend." Sapnap comments.

"Yeah, I don't really know how I'm going to take it either." He quickly checks himself, "I'm not trying to be dramatic I just feel that way." Sapnap, knowing more than Dream about his situation, tries to patch it up.

"Hey, it's only a week! And then when he comes back then we can do all the good fun projects. And if you want, George, you can still send Dream a message now and then. And uh- if you ever get bored we can play together on the Dream SMP. With Quackity."

"You hang out with Quackity so much nowadays." Dream states. That settles it. He's jealous.

"He's just a funny guy. And I'm not good at doing scripted bits. Don't think too much into it. Also, Sapnap, that sounds like a good idea."

"Alright, well then. I'll try and come back as soon as possible. I'll miss you guys."

"I'll miss you too."

"Yeah, I'll miss you too, Dream."

"Bye! Love you!"

"Bye!"

Say it back. No. Say it. Augh. "Bye!" They all leave the discord call in one motion. Then his discord screen lights up. Dream is calling him privately. A little frazzled his cursor sways a little before he clicks accept.

"George."

"Yes?" Holding his breath. Heat of the day still at his neck.

"I know just yesterday you told me that you wanted to talk more and I messed that up. I'm sorry, my family made the decision and really there wasn't any way I could back out. And I didn't have the heart to tell you last night. So, when you fell asleep, I stayed awake all night." He takes a deep breath as if coming to terms with a regrettable decision. "And with all my guilt I bought you a gift. Like a huge gift. Really expensive one. And… I want to tell you that I bought you it just so you have something to look forward to when I come back." He chuckles at this last part, "Keep you in suspense a little too."

"You bought me a gift?"

"Yeah. There are like multiple parts to it. I really hope you'll like it."

"I hope I'll like it too if you spent so much money on it." George nervously laughs and Dream laughs back too.

"Well, I don't mind spoiling you with a couple hundred thousand dollars."

"You- what? Hundred thousand?"

"You better look forward to it! Okay, no more questions I can't spoil it for you. I'll call you as soon as I get back home from the road trip. Take care of yourself and don't worry about me when I'm gone. I have to go finish packing now. Bye!"

"Bye, Dream!" Dream hangs up and George sits with a lot of questions looming. What is this gift? Why and how is it so expensive? A couple hundred thousand? The way Dream casually said, so purposefully, it was irritating. Even a whole new PC set up wasn't that expensive. And it has multiple parts? So, it's not just one thing…

Lost at what Dream could have possibly bought for him a little frustration stirs from within. Oh, Dream. He always sets it up well. A whole week of suspense, anticipation, and mystery. What else would you expect from him?

Dream had given him a lot of money before or expensive gifts, either through bets, bribery, or generosity, but they were also business partners so from that perspective it wasn't that weird.

George finally wonders how big the gift would be. How would the shipping be like? Would it even fit in his house? What would he do with it? The more he thought about it the more determined he became to figuring it out before Dream told him. Or at least show to him that he's okay without him. And that he deserves it.

_Take care of yourself and don't worry about me._

\----

For the third time that week, Sapnap messages George.

_Hey dude. Doing okay?_

_Yeah I'm fine! I just hung up some lights in my room_

_That sounds cool_

_Thanks_

George had been taking care of himself. Hydrating a lot. Taking showers. Having some ice lollies. Spending some time each day wondering about the gift. Counting off each of the days. Sending Dream little messages about the gift. Working on writing some code for the new video and testing it out on the server with Bad and Sapnap. Playing a little on the Dream SMP with Quackity and Karl. Buying a fan. Stringing up some lights, that probably doesn't help the heat or his light bill but they sure look nice. Working on that project some more. Searching up a slew of questions to try and whittle down what the gift could be to no avail. Catching himself swimming through old texts and photos. Watching some YouTube. Playing some CSGO with Sapnap and Punz. Taking some naps.

And there he is back again. Back to the heat at his neck and the hyper humid air in his room. Laying in the dark. Just like that night when he and Dream were on the phone. When he fell asleep to the sound of his voice.

The past seems so different from the present its hard to believe that the past was indeed the past. He first met Dream on Bad's server and since then so much has changed. What makes people close to each other? What causes people to love each other? Does he really like Dream in that way?

Maybe, he wasn't just lonely.

Maybe, the mirage in the road wasn't a fake, altered projection.

Maybe, it was just a mirror that he was too afraid to look into.

Maybe, it's about time he comes to terms with reality.

Every night when he goes to bed when he ends up back in his repeated nightmare he approaches with newfound hope. Perhaps, he could meet Dream there again. Because the more time they're apart in the intense world of George's heat wave the more George wishes he could close the gap between them. The more he misses him. The more dependent he feels. And he wishes he wasn't so clingy or possessive. Or so selfish. Yet, it's uncontrollable at times to stop it.

Perhaps, he thinks as he wakes up in the ferris wheel again, Dream will be sitting next to him and George could hold onto him and never let go.

Hold his hand tight, feel his hair, kiss him till his whole face goes numb, and given the chance he would do it. He would do it. Over and over again.

He would get to admire him in the carnival moonlight— just the two of them so he could give in— and live in the safety of his presence. He was handsome. He was brutally handsome. His mind was beautiful. George felt as if he hung on every word that Dream said just like he hangs on to his tongue when they kiss, in the hopes that he can taste him for just a little bit longer.

Because he wants Dream. And he needs him. And he-

George never finds Dream in his nightmare during the week. In fact, he simply gets murdered by his alternate version with the blood splattered all over, dripping, every time. And it doesn't matter. Because every night he goes back there with the same hope. Just simply the hope keeps him alive on the inside.

_I want Dream to take me._


	5. Deep Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Accepting reality for what it is, George finds himself in the after-waves of the plunge into his mirage- deep water that drags him down- and changing the world around him. His mind is beyond control of himself, the water with the power of his emotions and a thousand arms wrangles him, and allows him to let go of his temperament; revealing his secrets and pocketing new ones like the air bubbles he breathes.  
> \---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> major credit goes to tbhyourelame and their work titled "Heat Waves"  
> inspiration for the chapter from:  
> "Mr Loverman" by Ricky Montgomery  
> "You Know" by Eloq  
> "Grind Me Down" (Jawster Remix) by Lilianna Wilde  
> \---  
> I'm adding songs to the beginning of chapters because in the story its slowly progressing away from the heat wave and closer to the next phase of the story,, plus I've been listening to these while I write so i'm just putting these here for fun! I really like music and writing; they just fit so perfectly together. I have more songs coming up for other chapters too so yeah. Enjoy! <3

George feels something familiarly different about what he's sitting on. It's the bench at the carnival ground that he visited last week, its wooden texture feels more homely and less shocking than the touch of the cold silvery metal of the ferris wheel. In front, the ferris wheel looms over the river in its bright lights once more. There is dead silence and a chilling wind passes through and yet George doesn't feel as bothered as he usually is. The fear is there in the back of his mind but there is also the piquing curiosity of something inherently different in the storyline.

Closing his eyes, he leans back into the bench. His arms lie limp next to him and he feels as if he could almost be anywhere- floating in space and time- in a state of waiting, wanting, and impatience. Impatience that would soon lead to him losing hope. Somewhere along the lines he'll stop, maybe now or maybe later, if he does not act on it soon. His brows furrow a little as tension builds on the concept.

Something grazes his neck. His own voice, more like a scratchy record, a menacing susurration, comes from behind him. He squeezes his eyes tight. It feels like all the lights have now been turned to angle onto him- like a light in an interrogation room: piercing, painful, and purposeful- and the heat burns into his skin.

The object on the left side of his head, that had grazed his neck a moment before, becomes recognizable and the end of it is practically dug into his hair. The cold metal reminding him of the passenger car on the ferris wheel that most of the time indicates inevitable death.

"What do you want from me? Why are you killing me?" George calls out to the alternate version of him. George feels his hand rest on his shoulder now, the blood from his hands seeping into his shirt. The alternate version's blood dripping tie falls onto his back.

"Just admit it. Nobody is here for you." He hears something move on his left. Finger on the trigger.

If he can run— jump into the river—swim—

He doesn't have much more time to think and as he screams loudly an ear splitting bang goes off and another noise… it sounds like an alarm. Or a phone call. Dream! Dream! Dream is calling! Tossed from one world to the next in practically no time at all, George gets up from bed and grabs his phone. It reads: Clay Dream. He picks up.

"Hey George! I'm really sorry its super early," He glances at the time. _Three in the morning? Really?_ "I just got back home from the road trip and I'm not trying to be like clingy or anything I just wanted to talk because I didn't want you to miss me too much. And see, look, I’m back already!" When George takes too long to respond Dream fills up the silence, "Sorry, you can go back to bed." He nervously laughs. "I'll just let you know that you weren't even close to guessing the gift." This time his laugh is mischievous and lively.

"I don't think I can go back to sleep now." George tosses his covers aside and stands up.

"I'm so sorry; I shouldn't have called you. You trusted me to not wake you up unless it's an emergency, you even let me go through do not disturb, and I just woke you up at three in the morning." Dream pauses, "Please, George. Go back to sleep."

"Stop asking so nicely." George's words are mumbled and slurred together, "I'm not sleeping because I just got shot."

"You- you got shot? What? Where? By who? Why?"

"In… my nightmare." Silence.

"George, are the nightmares still coming to you?" Dream asks this in a sweet, concerned way.

"Yes, every day." The tone of his voice is some variation of grim bliss. "And they haven't gotten better."

" _George._ " Concern, love, and delicateness. George wanders through his house for a minute.

"I missed you a lot, Clay." There the raw truth lies with nothing else but the truth and the whole truth.

"I missed you a lot too." George slides into his couch and wishing he could hit replay on the moment. "I was thinking that if I was feeling this way, maybe you were too. So, I tried my best to get back to you as soon as possible, even though it was at the most inconvenient time." Soft spot.

"It's okay, I'm grateful you called. You pulled me out of the nightmare." His head feels heavy and the world around him a little dark. Stumbling into the kitchen, he brews some quick coffee and they both silently listen to the machine whir. Then when he gets his coffee he goes out to the balcony for some fresh air before the full day heat comes roaring back to life. The caffeine relaxes his brain a little.

"George. Is there any way I can help you right now? I want- I want to help you." Deep sip.

"I feel comfortable talking about the nightmares with you." George states.

"Then you can share with me, if that helps."

"Yeah, sure. Um. I'm continuing to have the repeated nightmare. For the majority of the week it's been pretty similar. I'm in a passenger car of a silver ferris wheel and the scary version of me comes to attack. The main difference from the weeks prior was that I was afraid to jump into the river below; either I hated it or was suspicious that there was something bad there, I don’t know. But, the rest of it usually played out the same. I would get beaten up and I would tolerate it until he stabbed me I died. I would tolerate it because— for the very first time— I felt a little hopeful when I was there. That I left a little part of me back there.” The words that fell out were more on the secretive side but he’s only just hit the water. He is not struggling yet.

“I don’t think you should be looking forward to a nightmare like that.” Flatly with a sense of being slightly disturbed. It would probably make more sense if Dream knew that he wanted to find him in his nightmare to cure the aching of his heart.

“Well, something did change and my intuition was correct. Just now, I had a nightmare where I wasn’t on the Ferris wheel for once. This time I was sitting on the bench near it. And when the evil man came to kill me again I… I think he shot me and I ran and I,” he takes a deep breath, “jumped into the river.”

“What happened then?”

“I’m not really sure.” He sighs, “You woke me up by then.”

“Did you maybe do something that could have triggered this?” His words come slowly.

“Well, yeah. I might have.” The confession was nerve wracking to hint to; the memories of his call with Sapnap come flooding back to him. The way the tears were streaming down his face. The way his voice shook like the ground beneath him. When he realized how alone he felt and how the only thing that could pull him out of it was Dream.

“Do you- want to… talk about that?”

“When I went out on a little drive that day, I actually went someplace. I went to the place of my nightmares.”

“The carnival ground.” Dream says back the reality meeting with him.

“Yeah, I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to worry you and I just was doing it for myself and to figure out some answers. Honestly, I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.” He has a short, nervous, and bitter laugh. The laugh of a burden.

“It’s not good to keep things like this to yourself. I’m just saying, maybe you need to get it off your chest. And I’m here to listen and I want to help you.” Understanding, calm manner.

“Thanks. I just don’t want to ask too much of you.”

“You’re not. You never are.”

With the validation he proceeds, holding onto to the balcony railing tightly. "Well, I went there because I was in an awful mood for a while and I realized I needed to get out. So, I impulsively drove out to the carnival grounds and I sat on a bench there. While I was sitting I realized that I feel so distant all the time." George's face softens, "Like I don't have anybody with me in this isolated state. I was watching people together having a fun time and I was bitter. You know, you can't really tell your lonely while you're lonely."

George says some quite deep, philosophical statements before and this seems like another one of those times where it was quite a heavy thing to say and like an anchor taking down the conversation with it.

"You can't tell that you're lonely while your lonely?" He repeats slightly confused.

"What I'm trying to say is that I couldn't understand for a long time why I felt so awful. And so I went outside and I thought hard about it and realized it because of you. You talking to me made me realize that I… I feel like this."

There is a small pause to let Dream think. "Is this because of me? Because you said that you were lonely and that you missed me. And that you felt you left something back there. In your nightmare. Is it because of me? Did you leave me back there?”

"No!" He hesitates a little, "Dream, you're the solution to my problem. When I talk to you that’s when things feel better. Don't ever say that because I think that sometimes you're all I have to keep me going every day. And you're not making my nightmares happen, so please don't blame yourself."

"George, I just want to help you. I don't like hearing you like this. I- Sapnap told me that you're doing well. He also said that I should talk to you and I- the whole trip I was worried about you. I suck at taking my own advice." He breathes out heavily, "Please, how can I help you George?"

Goosebumps travel up his legs. "If you stayed with me more, Clay, that's all I'd ever need." These words seem a little bit like an open invitation, something that George wasn't intending but wasn't false either. Suddenly, wind picks up and rain starts to fall, slowly at first, with only a few drops and within a minute it pounds onto the ground with raging force.

“Dream! Dream!” George cries of sheer joy. He sets his empty coffee mug aside.

“What?”

"It’s raining! There is a break in the heatwave!” He laughs a little childishly and lets the rain come down on him. The wind sweeps up his hair and the chilly feeling held all the summer heat at bay for just one precious moment.

“Really? That’s awesome!”

“Yeah.” George is a little breathless.

“It reminds me of how it rains a lot in Florida.”

“Yeah, it rains a lot here in London too.” Watching the rain fall off rooftops like a curtain and patter off of cars. A little bit of peace with Dream at his ear and a world calming down for a minute, even if it’s about to turn the heat back up again later. “What is it like in Florida when it rains?”

“It’s wonderful. Unless you get stuck in the car but even then you can enjoy it if you close your eyes and just listen to the rain. We have a lot of water around here. Like lakes, rivers, and ponds. It’s really calming.”

“That sounds wonderful.” George reflects. “I think it would be fun there.”

“George.”

“What?”

“Do you want to visit me? In Florida?”

“Um,” Caught off guard he waits a minute to file through his thoughts. Visit Dream? Right now? His gut tells him he really wants to but is it what’s best for him? Anything could happen when they met up. It could all fall apart in the matter of minutes. “I’m not sure with the whole VISA thing yet. So, I’ll have to sort that out first but that sounds like fun.”

_What if the dreams are more than dreams? What if they speak to a broader reality that I’ve been grappling to accept?_

“Well, I asked because it has to do with your gift.” George beams and brings the phone closer. His hair flies in the air. He wills himself to forget the last thoughts and think to the future.

“So, it involves traveling someplace?” George pries at the secret.

“Well, yes. However, there is a condition.”

“A condition?” George’s eyebrows rise.

“You have to keep this as our little secret.”

“You mean-”

“I mean you can’t tell anyone. I’m still piecing it together so I can’t even tell you the full details but you can’t tell anyone even-"

"Sapnap." George understood not telling the fans or anyone who would make a big deal about it but Sapnap? He couldn't tell Nick? A small part of this fact sits oddly with him. What are Dream's intentions?

Normally, Dream knows the boundaries and he knows when to back off. However, in the current moment, it's like he's asking permission for them to act up. To run away together. To leave it all behind them. Tell nobody.

_You have to keep this as our little secret._

Accepting this would be like diving off the plank and sinking far into the depths allowing no escape even if he tried to swim up. Can he do this? Can he really do this? His hands shake and the world falls into itself- everything caving in around him. His legs give out and he collapses onto the floor. The wet balcony meets his face and the noise of him falling alerts Dream.

"George? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I just fell." He crawls over to his phone; he can barely hold it up to his face, through the rain and the fact that his limbs have seem to lost their ability to function. "I- I won't. I won't tell." The phone shakes violently.

Dream's deep laugh sends a chill down George's spine. The wind picks up again and the rain flies into his back. The water drops drips fall from his hair and run down his phone.

"Alright, well, I have to go eat something now. I'm glad we talked."

"Me too." Dream hangs up. Setting his phone next to him, George turns over onto his back and lays there, the rain falling down onto his face, wondering if he should ever get up.

\----

Unlike the past days, today his life is a complete mess. His mind scattered and his hands clumsy. Tempted, he finds some wine that he keeps on top of the fridge and pours himself a glass. A notification echoes through the hollow house. Taking his wine with him, he stumbles into the room. His lit up phone lays on his desk harmlessly.

_Hey George! I'm streaming speedruns, wanna watch?_

_Sure_

George's nerves make him take another swig of wine. _He's fine. It's all fine. It will all be fine._ Another swig. He gets on discord and joins Dream's call.

"Hey, Dream. Hello, chat." George says as he joins. George pulls up Dream's stream on his computer.

"Hey, George. I'm just trying to find a village right now." His character runs across the plains and George takes a sip of his wine out of habit.

"Cool." He fades away into space and time, losing all sense of the presence.

"What're you thinking about?" Dream asks.

"I don't know; I just blanked out for a bit."

"Alright, I might have to start a new world. You want to pick a donation question to answer?"

"Sure." George files through the most recent donations. "Okay, what about this one: what's one pickup line on the spot?"

"A pick up line?" Dream chuckles, "Okay… um…."

"What? It's not that hard. I mean, I could do it." Dream methodically and mindlessly clicks through to create the new world.

"Okay! You try." He hands it over.

Put on the spot he pours himself another glass. He's never let himself drink this much- let alone during a stream- yet he's lost his reasoning to care. "Can I follow you where you’re going right now? Because my parents always told me to follow my dreams."

"What?" Dream laughs a whole-hearted laugh at the stupidity. "Alright, fine. I'll try." He swipes his swords at the Iron Golem in the village as he thinks. "Are you a parking ticket? Because you’ve got FINE written all over you."

George giggles at this and then breaks into a laugh. He can't keep his legs still and smacks his table. He feels more free to act however when the camera isn't on him.

"Okay," Dream breathes out, "This is going good so far." He builds the nether portal with precision of someone who had done it hundreds if not thousands of times. George's mischievous side comes back to guide him.

"What're you doing… step-Dream?"

"What? What? WHAT?" Dream exclaims as he stands at the portal waiting to be transported. With the effect of an electric shock, George's monitor blacks out and so do the lights in his room. Instinctively, he clicks at it to wake it up but nothing happens. Turning to his window, he opens it to find a blacked-out street where no house has any lights on. The only thing active is the heavy storm rain pounding against the windows, walls, and roofs.

_George what happened? You disconnected?_

_Also what was THAT_

_Hahaha_

_My power went out because of the storm. Looks like it's not just me. I don’t know when it'll be back_

_Right… I hope it all gets sorted soon_

_You got everything?_

_Yeah basically_

_you can call me on your phone_

_Okay_

Getting back on discord, George props his phone on the windowsill, connects his mike, scoots his office chair over, and cracks the window open. Then he opens up the stream.

"Hey, I'm back!"

"Oh, I made it so the chat can't hear you, George." Dream replies. "The audio is getting a little crackly because of the storm in your area so I think it's better for the stream this way."

"That's fine." George runs his hand through his hair, "I like keeping things between us."

"Yeah…" Nervous laugh. He shoots at a gast and finally spots the fortress across a large lava lake. "This place took a long time to find. I…" Dream's voice captures George once again. If he could trace the way he spoke with his finger he would religiously. The highs and lows of his voice are like a work of art. Dream is like a work of art. The more he hears about the art the more he wants to unravel it for himself. His mind buzzes with his third glass.

"…That's why its always a good idea to follow that method for finding the fortress."

"Dream, your voice is… beautiful." George doesn't think too much about what he says.

"Thank you." Sounding like a smile, George's heart pounds in his ear just like the rain outside. To go further. Push further. See how far he could go. It hard to catch Dream off guard at the same time George knows he’s done it before. He’ll do it again.

"George what are you doing?” Dream asks a little bit later.

"Drinking." Another sip. The fact that the chat can't hear him simply lets him be more unhinged. To not have to worry about what the audience sees or doesn't see.

"During a stream?" His voice is controlled as if he would have said more if there weren't thousands of people listening.

"I never said it was a good thing." George mumbles. "You know, you should end the stream." A stupid smile spreads out on his face.

"Why?"

"I don't want you to talk to anybody else. I want you all for myself." He drags his mic closer. Finally, George has the opportunity to find what's underneath the dark water, to runs his hands through it, and to wade into the deep end.

"George…" Dream for once falls short of words.

"At least I can say whatever I want. I can say all the things I've wanted to say, all the things that I like-"

"Do tell more." The way Dream says this makes the chat wild. "I'd love to know more."

"Well, I like… _I liked that photo of your hands._ " George puts the mic to his lips and whispers with the softest voice he can muster, " _You have really nice hands, Dream._ " Startled, Dream misses a block clutch nearly sending him into lava. He catches onto the edge of a fortress window ledge- barely - and escapes the fall.

"George!" He yells and George softly giggles by the mike. "I wasn't expecting that."

"Sorry, I should help you calm down. Maybe, you need a little kiss on-" George giggles before finishing, " _the forehead._ "

"Oh my god, George…" Dream whines back. "Okay, I'm listening now. Continue."

"You really want to hear me talk about your hands?" He whisper giggles again, " _Because I'll do it._ " He presses his lips against the mike. " _I'll describe how every vein makes me feel. And I'll tell you about how much, if there was frosting on your fingers, I'd want to lick it off. And I'd tell you how I want to fit right there— in the space between._ "

"Really? Do you really?" Dream asks discreetly.

" _Always have._ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -thanks so much for 10K hits and over 300 kudos! its so amazing!!
> 
> -I just realized ferris wheels are called "big wheels" in British English but its too late now lmao
> 
> -the ending of Heat Waves happened and it was epic! Thank you Kota for such an amazing story, I will forever be a fan of this fic and I really admire it. It was an amazing journey and the way the ending tied everything together was beautiful. I'd love to see Helium as well as it already sounds spectacular.
> 
> -okay, confession time, I listened to the "GeorgeNotFound onlyfans" song and I- ???
> 
> -frogs tho <3 they do be really cute uwu


	6. Submerged Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sinking down into the depths of his new world, George lets go by lighting their friendship on fire, fighting to not drown in his own feelings, hoping he won't be stranded in the middle of the ocean, discovering how the strings of the world keep him and Dream tied together, when finally he gets sent a ticket to paradise, true escapism from the haunting heat of solitude.  
> \---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> major credit goes to tbhyourelame and their work titled "Heat Waves"  
> inspiration for the chapter from:  
> ○ >>>Staring Contest by fourwalls on ChilledCow<<<  
> ○ >>>Okay, but this is the last time by mt. marcy<<<  
> ○ Pandemonium (tribute Version) by Mondays feat. Hanna Stone, Dag Lundbaerg [Acoustic Group]  
> ○ Devil Eyes by Hippie Sabotage  
> ○ Diamonds by Sam Smith  
> ○ She Loves Control by Camila Cabello  
> ○ Weak by AJR  
> ○ Shape of You by Ed Sheeran (hits different now than it did four years ago…)  
> \---  
> Just some songs to enjoy! I listen to these while I write/ in general! Thanks so much for 11K and over 400 kudos! I really appreciate all the support and I hope you're doing well wherever you are <3  
> (the >><< just mean that it's more centered around the chapter's content)

Nobody said anything for a little while after, Dream simply fought the blazes at the spawner. The chat simmered down with the silence and George waited like a shark in the deep water. Waiting for the right moment to take a bite. Thoughts swirl around until it settles on something.

" _You should know what we do in my dreams._ "

"Should I?" He chuckles a little bit but it soon dies out for good.

" _There isn't one minute that goes by where I don't fantasize about you. About us._ "

"Hmm." Dream hums in a slightly upbeat way. Uncertainty hangs in the air between them for a minute. They jump from one topic to another.

"I was thinking of starting an OF. But, I'd need a professional photographer. So, I was thinking you could be of service." George smirks, "You could let me know if they were any good. And how they made _you_ feel. _Because it's very important when it's about you, Clay._ "

He misses blocking his shield, the blazes shoot all at once, and has to run away from the spawner. While he nearly burns to death, he eats some bread. "Right, I don't know if that's a good idea." Dream sounds shy, voice shaking slightly, when he says this and George can imagine his red face he's trying to hide.

"Well, you take good pictures. We shouldn't let that talent go to waste." Pause, "It could be another thing we keep between just us. I'm just for you Dream. I'm all yours." Another pause, "Picture me as another one of—no— _your British boy."_

"Mmh." Dream breathes in heavily. A small shock runs through George of worry, so to not make him too uncomfortable, he lets it go for a while. Then after a fleeting moment of self-restraint, the tide drags him back in again.

George takes a picture of himself, off centered and aimed towards his chest. One of his hands tugs on the collar of his shirt, exposing his collarbone and the entirety of his neck, and his figure pale in the in the photo flash. He sends it.

Dream stops abruptly as he's running through the fortress and opens up the photo. He says nothing, a second later a photo sends back. George licks his lips and opens the photo, and unexpectedly falls into a trance. Dream sent him a lazy, blurry photo of his lap. The shape of his legs like a piece of art, comforting and smooth. Something so intimate and strange… what could it even mean? And yet it's as if Dream knows, _he knows,_ that its exactly where George's nirvana is. Shorts and no socks. Why does it look… _so appealing_?

George wonders wildly if Dream felt the same way. When he saw his photos, was it the same sense of welcoming familiarity and fanatical frenzy that greeted him? Did it all feel so real it was hard to believe? Did the tide pull him in too? Was he there with him, swimming side by side? Were their eyes just shut but their bodies close… drifting away and drifting close… back and forth… tug along by the waves…

Normally, he would shove these thoughts down but the heat of the rainy day, the sweat on his lips, the intoxication, and the opportunity makes him rash enough to finally ask.

"Does this exchange make you feel something? Do you want me, Dream?"

"Y-yes." Never sounding this shaken before, he takes a minute from his speed run so he can sort his inventory- really just to calm himself.

"Right now, there's a lot of people listening."

"I know, George." His normal demeanor returns for a moment after clearing his throat.

George mischievously runs his hand down the mike. "When I'm alone with you, maybe we could do more than just talk."

Dream finally bites the bullet, "Like… what?"

"Anything you'd want to try."

"Anything…" Dream lets the rest of the sentence fade from his tongue.

"As long as you keep me close." Close enough to memorize your scent and the ridges of your hands.

"I did promise you; I'll never…" he finds a way to finish, "break it." A noise escapes George's mouth that sound more like a moan than he wanted it to. Heart racing, he empties another glass. They wait a little bit, slightly more comfortable now to continue conversation in the deep end.

Dream grinds the blazes and finally gets six rods. When he's getting his last few, George comes back to talk again after taking a few sips. " _Dream~_ "

"Yes?"

"Can I tell you something?"

"What's stopping you?" Little on the harsh side.

"Well, when I've told people this in the past they always get mad at me." He sighs into the mike, "You won't get mad, right? You won't?"

"What is it?" There is some tension in his voice, as if this whole exchange were like dancing on a tightrope while thousands of people watched. George holds the mike to his chest and kicks his legs up to the window sill. The world is a blanket of dark outside except for the rumbling thunder and splashing rain in the streets. Just as dark as if he were submerged… a sunken ship in a lover's arms.

"I- _I think you're sexy."_

Dream, absolutely losing all control, falls off the tower and right into the lava pit below. His hands are so stunned he doesn't even react to the fall and attempt to save himself. He burns in the lava, all of his items burning along with him and sinking down into the lake. His mouse hovers over the respawn button, but he's stopped playing. Dream's very shaky breath is audible.

Something falls off his desk and things are scattered about. A panicked breath. George's heart sinks.

"Alright guys," Dream collects his pieces, "I'm sorry, I think I'm going to end the stream now." The chat loses their minds. Dream's cursor shakes. "Sorry, bye." The only light in his room turned to black, George is engulfed in the darkness- submerged with no way out. And its beautiful down here. It's beautiful and dangerous all the same.

" _George…_ " Dream is still on the phone. "Could you please tell me, what-" Dream starts to cry, "-what that was?" His voice hitches and he pulls his phone closer. "Because that hurt me."

"I'm sorry. I messed up." Silent tears.

"I was streaming and then you started saying all these things in my ear… why? Why were you trying to do that to me?"

"Do what? Do what to you?" George sets his teeth, "There isn't anyone listening now, tell me. Tell me. Because I need to hear it." The rain fades in and out of the background. "Dream…"

"Turning me on." He says with a sharp tongue. "Making me hide it all."

"I- I wasn't thinking straight…"

"If I did that to you, George, would that be fair? If I asked you while _you_ were on stream if you'd take pictures of me or if I told you that _I thought you were sexy_ … would that be fair?"

"No…" George breathes out facing his consequence head on.

"That hurt me." He pauses, "Here." Imagining Dream press his hand into his chest. "Why would you do that to me? I don't think you understand how much you shake me to the core. How much of me you can- you can take up without trying."

"Dream," George's silent crying bursts into full sobs, "I've been drowning and I've been too afraid to tell you." It's an ugly cry now, "I miss you so much and I wish you were here." The tears drip into his lap. "That you are with me… _always_. And I don't have to keep us apart anymore. I don't have to push back on you anymore. That I can close the gap between us." He wipes his tears with his shirt. "There's so much I've kept from you, bottled up inside. So much that I want… that I want to be for you. I… I do think you're hot." George admits at last.

"You haven't ever seen me before…"

"Your voice is enough. Your love is enough. It's enough for me. It's all I ever want." His cry continues.

"There were better ways of telling me… like maybe by not drinking or torturing me like that. George you don't know yourself that well. Your voice… it burns like fire."

"I burn for you." He murmurs back, head spinning.

Lighting and thunder goes off right outside George's house, shaking the foundation, a fiery blaze cutting through the water. Everything flashes white for a millisecond.

"I'm sorry Dream. I'm a mess."

"You're not the only one."

“What?” George’s phone vibrates and he swipes down to his notifications. Dream sent him a picture.

“Open it.”

“Okay.” It’s a picture of Dream himself, with a soft, sad smile on his lips. His hair is messy, dirty blond, and his eyes are like in his nightmares, green and golden. Freckles dot his cheeks and despite never seeing him before he looks like an old friend to him. Someone he’s known for a long time with the fuzzy feeling of nostalgia and magic. Familiarity in the way that his jaw line shapes his face, the way his head tilts towards the camera, and the way his dark blue hoodie fits him. It's like he did it on purpose, wear his favorite color just so he would look like the perfect ocean water that he's fallen into. That he's submerged in. Forever.

His lips read a foreign language only George can understand. He wants to respond to its beckoning call from the depths of the ocean, _you need to press your lips against mine so hard that it lights me on fire._

"God…" Speechless for a minute. "Can I keep you? I mean, this?"

"You can keep me in your pocket wherever you go." He screenshots it.

"Really."

"Yes, really." Dream hums.

"And what if it's not enough. What if it's… not enough. For me." George can't help the delirious thought of Dream's cool hands on his face, the way he could lean his head into the crook of Dream's neck, and Dream pressing him into the railings of the balcony as the rain comes pouring down in between them. Take me. _Take me._

"What are you saying? You sound really ill… how much did you drink? Please, go to bed. George, its three in the morning again. We can talk again when you're sober I promise. Please, sleep."

The thought of sleep makes George cry again, "I- I don't want to be alone. I don't want to be alone…" George feels the ocean tide fading away for a minute, washed up on the Florida beach, with nothing but the fiery sand to hold him and his misery. All the sand he picks up from the beach slips through his fingers.

_"I wish I'm there with you…"_ Dream whispers back. In his dark room, with the pouring rain outside, and Dream wants to. He wants to be here. George would let him be there. Locked door. Kicking the cotton sheets off the bed. Breath in each other's faces. _Drink me down, Dream. Drink me down like I'm wine_. "But, it's important that you sleep. If you're not going to do it for yourself, then do it for me."

"Alright- fine." George is going to pass out. "I'll go… bed."

"Georgie, sleep well for me."

"Hmm. Night." George hangs up and flops onto his bed; the world just a smothered blur of a paint brush.

\----

The sun breaks into his room through the open window from the night before, laying its light all over his room. The heat was back to torture him yet the day was fresh again.

The first thing that George can’t ignore when he wakes up is the pounding of his head. Second, a wave of thoughts crash into his mind all fragments of what he said the night before, sharp shells, like glass, sticking up in the sand. _Last night_ …

He sits up and looks at his desk. Empty wine bottles filled to the brim with regretted decisions. He really let himself loose. He was so nervous he was going to mess it all up that he ended up messing it anyway. Yet, after everything that happened it’s almost a lightweight feeling left. The tides have stopped pushing him around. The waves have settled after the whirlpool. And he’s sitting on his bed, the sea floor, looking up at how far he’s sunk and how much he’s finally come to accept. It’s a beautiful sky of blue, looking up. A moving, swaying sky.

His pounding head comes back to remind him of his problems and mismanagement. As he stumbles about trying to find something to eat or a glass of water, the phone rings.

“Hello?” His voice sounds raw and exhausted.

“Dear god, George! I’ve been calling you all day! How long were you up with Dream last night?”

“I don’t… remember.” He replies flatly.

“Did you just wake up?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Well, I don’t know what you two did last stream-“ neither did George honestly, ”but everyone on Twitter is going crazy. They’re saying that Dream is angry and you guys fought. Asking about what you two were talking about. All the moderators are pissed and some people think-” Sapnap struggles with words, “okay maybe you should see for yourself.”

“Sapnap, I’m too tired for this sh#t. Just have Dream tell everyone nothing happened."

"He did and he also said he's going on another hiatus for a week." Sapnap replies with tension.

"What…?" George swallows hard.

"I've been trying to contact him and he hasn't replied." Sapnap sends George the tweet and it dauntingly sits there on his phone. "He's taking a break for personal reasons…"

"F*ck." George sighs out loud in despair and covers his face with his hands. "What did _I do_?" Verge of tears.

"Don't freak out. Take a deep breath. Read his tweet." Taking the comforting, small idea, George breathes and opens up the tweet.

_Hello, everyone! George and I didn't fight yesterday, don't worry about it. I'm glad I could assure you all because I'm taking a hiatus for another week for personal reasons so I won't be online. Thank you, love you guys._

"There… doesn't seem to be something wrong."

"See, it's all okay. How about you guys talk it out?" Sapnap recommends.

"Alright, I'll text him." Self-consciousness creeps around him as he sends his messages.

_Hey, good morning_

_Um,,, whats going on?_

"I swear if he texts you back and not me I'm gonna-"

"He replied." _I think it'd be better if we talked on the phone._ "He wants to call me…"

"Alright you sort it out. I'm done for today!" Sapnap hangs up. A little sympathy hangs in the air for Sapnap but it all comes crashing down- overtaken- when George’s phone lights up. The same words again: Clay Dream. The name gives him a sudden panic attack he wasn’t expecting. He holds onto his bedside table, clawing his fingers in, and heart racing.

A minute goes by and he remembers what Sapnap told him. Don’t freak out. Just talk. He presses accept.

“Hello…” He forgets to reply, “George?”

“Yes…hello.” His worn out words leave an unsettled feeling between them. Raw and coarse.

“Did you sleep well?” Genuine.

“Sort of. How about you?”

“Not at all.” He laughs brushing it aside, “Well, anyway they all think I hate you…”

“Yeah, what’s that all about?” George’s neck aches.

“I don't know; I might’ve sounded upset at you when I ended the stream last night.”

“Last night…” George falls short of words.

“Do you remember anything?” He carefully asks.

“A little bit. Honestly, not that much.”

“Yeah, you were drunk.”

“Was I?”

Dream laughs a little, “Yes.”

“Was it bad?” He asks innocently.

“Yeah, it was. It was kind of cruel, if I’m being honest…” He sighs, “but I’ve thought a lot about it and I think that I understand what you were getting at.” It sounds a little bitter, like he was a little bitter, when picking up on the trail of ashes that were left when George set fire to their relationship and tried to drown the evidence in the river.

“I don’t- could you tell me what I did?”

“You were talking to me while I was streaming…” Dream pauses for a second to think how to word the rest of it, “telling me how much you wanted me.”

“Oh.” His cheekbones hurt with shame and embarrassment and he instinctively covers his face with his hands. “I think I remember a little bit more now… god I really f*cked this all up didn’t I?”

Dream has a low laugh, “It's okay. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me. Also, I found that I don’t particularly mind fixing the things that you break."

“But, that’s not an excuse for what I did…” George mumbles.

"I- I know." Dream takes a minute to spill the truth out, “I just can’t find it in my heart to blame you.” Touched, George says nothing finding himself in a humbling puddle. He attempts to ignore the grumbling of his stomach, the pounding of his head, the heat scorching his skin, and the dryness of his mouth. "Did you just wake up?" Dream asks.

"Yeah. I did. Sapnap woke me up."

"You can get something to eat while we talk." Dream encourages.

"Sure," George shuffles through his fridge with the cool air greeting him, “So, what’s the second hiatus about?”

“Well, it’s about you. And last night.”

“Dream…” The words catch George in a trance of trepidation.

“I didn’t sleep last night-"

“Okay you need to stop; that’s not good for you-“ Despite knowing it may be hypocritical, George hates that Dream is ruining himself over him. He should tell him to sleep. He should take care of him better. If not what kind of… partner is he?

“And I bought everything and arranged everything-"

“Dream I think this gift is doing more harm than-" Cutting him off once more.

“And it’s waiting for you George." Sweet words stun him, "I’m waiting for you.”

“Waiting for what?” George wonders out loud.

“To answer a question.”

The words ring a familiar tone to the words: _you have to keep this as our little secret._ The way the rain ran down his face, he stared up into the sky. Trying to figure out what to do now that Dream's gotten his own agenda and is asking for him in a way he's never asked before. Private. All for him. Can he handle it? Or will he lose himself? Will it all fall apart in his hands? Will the sand trickle out of his fingers? Will he drown at the bottom of the ocean by the buried treasure and the sunken ships to be forever in his misery? Will he burn so passionately that the rain comes and smothers him off the face of the earth?

It's too easy to envision himself standing in a bustling airport with a ticket back home in his hands, bleeding invalid ink, wet with his tears, another half of his broken heart in his hand that he can't ever put back together.

Or will he finally have someone to fill his bench for him? George has never been someone who's thought love was a permanent thing. But, he's got a lot of hope bundled up inside of him. Now that he's let go all of which he was holding close to his chest, maybe it isn't making Dream turn the other way. There is something happening— magical, mystical, marvelously extraordinary— like strings dripping of fire around their hearts pulling them together, tangled up and intertwined in a gordian knot of love.

“What…" George takes a chance for the last time, "…is it?”

“Was what you said last night real?" George closes his fridge like punctuating Dream's sentence, "Do you mean it?” He stares back hard at his phone on the kitchen island countertop. The tension is so dense George could reach out and grab it out of the air.

“What difference would my answer make?" He carefully asks, "What would it mean to you if I said no?" He breathes out, "What about _yes_?”

“It would make a big difference,” Dream says with a little bit of his regular humous and mischievous tone returning.

A notification lights George's phone alive. He quickly swipes, his hands moving without thinking, and looks at what pictures Dream sent. At first the picture of a document confuses him on what it is. Then zooming in he reads the text and the revelation strikes him like lightening out in the streets in the middle of the rain.

“…because I got you a ticket. To come to Orlando. I set a whole week free. Just for you to have me. I bought a yacht for you. So, we can hang out in the middle of the ocean. You and me. And I want to make your fantasies come to life.” The words come with a vigorous passion in his voice as if he's poured all of himself into it.

His vision sways and morphs, the sky falling and the world rising. His breathing fast, his arms weak, his mouth incredibly dry, the incalescent seizing his body, and dizzy with sweat dripping off his back. He presses his hands into the cooler countertop and chugs down a cold glass of water. He sets the glass down and the walls bend in on themselves.

“Dream I would love to.” He answers finally, “I- I think need you.”

“We need each other.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -I'm cutting myself a break with trying to remember that George is colorblind… its killing me over here XD… green just looks different to this man, alright? But is still his "green"
> 
> -when you can't casually tell someone irl you have an ao3 account anymore OwO
> 
> -Dream's song "Road Trip" is stuck in my head,, got me in my feels ;-;
> 
> -i love how writing can put you in another world its amazing
> 
> -been really romantically nostalgic recently,,, 
> 
> -more frog appreciation uwu <3


End file.
